


you told me to buy a pony, but all i wanted was you

by LuckyBlueHeart



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Dream Cycle - H. P. Lovecraft
Genre: Canon-Typical Body Horror, Crush at First Sight, M/M, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, the fandom's favorite chaotic asshole struggles with having emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-10-26 20:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17752958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyBlueHeart/pseuds/LuckyBlueHeart
Summary: Some months after the events of Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, the Crawling Chaos struggles with some strange feelings for the dreamer that escaped its grasp.Title from here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCE9iMebyK4





	1. Chapter 1

Randolph Carter was an enigma.

The Crawling Chaos had never encountered a human quite like him. Well, figuratively, anyway - how many of them were there now? Billions? No human could ever be truly one-of-a-kind, and Nyarlathotep knew that for a fact...and yet…

Shaking its head, the Emissary returned to its work. A sacrifice was being prepared by one of the cults it oversaw, something about keeping one of the Great Old Ones asleep. They didn’t need sacrifices to stay slumbering, obviously - if they had, the human race would have been wiped out millennia ago. But it had come to help anyway. It felt better having something to do. And especially after the events in the Dreamlands, it needed a distraction.

It had been a few months since Carter had travelled to Unknown Kadath, seeking his mystical Sunset City. Months since Nyarlathotep had first met the dreamer face-to-face. It had watched him before, of course, an experienced adventurer like him couldn’t escape notice, but ever since Carter had slipped through its fingers the Crawling Chaos found itself watching much more often than it had ever expected.

Randolph seemed happy, far happier than he had been when they’d met on Kadath. His smile was like the sun, the same one that painted that Sunset City with gold and orange and deep purple. When he stopped on the road to say hello to a stray cat, his eyes would light up a bright golden-brown. And when he laughed...dear _gods_ , when he laughed, his whole being shone like the brightest of stars, and afterwards he’d reach up to adjust his glasses and run a hand through his soft, ginger hair…

Nyarlathotep paused, putting down the ritual candles it was holding and running a hand across the base of its neck. Humanoid forms were oh-so strange. Why on Yuggoth did its chest feel tight? It shook its head again. It should focus on the task at hand, some human wasn’t going to distract it.

But _that_ human…

It sighed. Randolph Carter hadn’t left Nyarlathotep’s mind for a second since they’d parted. It was horrible - the Emissary of the Outer Gods, heir to Azathoth’s cosmic throne, distracted by some human? It was unthinkable! There was nothing _special_ about Carter, he had just _barely_ managed to escape the trap it had set for him, and even then only by pure luck!

So why was it that Randolph Carter refused to leave the Crawling Chaos’ thoughts?

Why, in the dull moments between its duties, did Nyarlathotep find itself drifting back, dream-like, to the dreamer that had escaped it?

Perhaps it was a curse? But what magic could touch an Outer God? What accursed spell was it that made its chest tighten and its throat close and its face warm at the mere thought of Randolph Carter?

Grumbling to itself, it finished placing the candles and began drawing the sigil needed for the ritual. It would get its revenge someday, it mused - yes, someday, Randolph Carter would _pay_ for causing these feelings.

Whatever he’d done, Nyarlathotep would find it, and then he’d regret having ever messed with the affairs of an Outer God.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we get a glimpse at how good ol' Randy's life has been going since his Dream-Quest! I've already got some really good ideas for where this fic is gonna end up going, I really hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it!!

Randolph Carter's life had been rather peaceful ever since his great Dream-Quest.

After escaping from Nyarlathotep on Kadath, he had more or less returned to his everyday life. He still visited the Dreamlands, of course - He had been welcomed as a hero after returning the Gods to Kadath, and there was even talk of him becoming the next dreamer-king of Ilek-Vad. Both his dreaming and waking hours were rather uneventful, however, and Carter rather preferred it that way.

The small Boston apartment he called home was just as modest and cluttered as ever - he didn’t see the point in having much space, but his research and writings tended to be at least a little bit scattered around his desk.

Which is why when he returned from Miskatonic University one late afternoon, he didn’t immediately recognize that someone had gone through his papers.

However, once he had gone to sit down at his typewriter, a freshly-brewed mug of tea in hand, it became quickly apparent that something was off.

The desk’s drawers were open fully, their contents moved around and a few even thrown on the floor. The stacks of papers had been pushed over roughly, his mug of pens and pencils tipped on its side, and his typewriter had been pushed all the way to the side of the desk, threatening to teeter off the edge onto the floor.

After putting his tea down hurriedly and saving his typewriter from its early death (those things were expensive!), he spent the next half hour double- and triple-checking his belongings to find what had been stolen. Strangely, though...nothing seemed to be missing. The artifacts he’d collected on his travels, his research into arcane mysteries, even the beginnings of a novel were there - a little crumpled and thrown-around, but completely intact.

Carter frowned, leaning over and beginning to put everything back to roughly where it had been when he’d left that morning. This was certainly strange. He’d made sure to lock the door that morning, hadn’t he? And there hadn’t been any signs of a break-in, on top of the fact that nothing had been taken. Strange indeed…

 

He made sure the next morning that all his doors and windows were locked when he left - he even dug out some old padlocks and added those to the mix, just in case. Gods above, he must have looked even stranger than usual to the neighbors.

His plan appeared to have worked, as the door was still locked tight when he arrived home. But as soon as he entered the room it was clear something had still happened.

This time, it was his bedroom that had been destroyed. Once again, nothing had been taken, but every book in his bookshelf had been pulled out and left on the floor, his chairs moved out from their places, and the sheets of his bed pulled off in a mess.

Carter, unnerved, set to putting his room back together. And as he worked, he came up with a plan.

 

The next day, he went to buy a portable camera, one of those new collapsible ones that they were making in the factories. After doing some other grocery shopping, he returned to his (thankfully untouched) apartment and got to work.

Half an hour, some fishing line, and some good old New England ingenuity later, a do-it-yourself tripwire system was hooked up to the camera. He laid the lines out through the apartment, making sure to disguise them so his mystery invader didn’t catch on before it was too late, then set the camera up in a corner of the main room. Finally, once he had tested the device to make sure it worked, Randolph Carter settled in to bed.

 

He didn’t know what he’d expected to find on the film the next day. He’d ruled out the possibility of a robber, since both times nothing had been taken. An academic rival, perhaps? Or maybe even just a curious neighbor?

Nonetheless, he _definitely_ hadn’t expected to find what he did.

The single photo that had been taken while he was out showed...something indescribable. Something tall, dark, and _inhuman_ was pictured in his apartment, moving towards his desk but apparently startled by the camera’s flash. The rest of the film was corroded and ruined, leaving nothing but that single shot. Carter got the strong feeling that, had he not encountered such things before in his studies, this image would have caused a much... _stronger_ reaction.

This changed things considerably. He had been preparing for a human intruder, but an eldritch one? Surprisingly, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Was one of the Outer Gods sending minions after him for what happened on Kadath?

But no, that couldn’t be, if an Outer God was after him, he’d have been dead months ago. Perhaps one of the cults was targeting him? The thing in the picture didn’t _look_ like a Shoggoth, but he certainly couldn’t write it off as not being one. But that still didn’t explain how it had gotten in or out…

Deeply troubled, Carter decided to take some quick precautionary measures. He drew a few protective sigils in chalk on his front door and next to his windows, as well as one on the front of his bedroom door, just in case. They wouldn’t do much in the long run, but at least he’d be able to sleep that night without worrying for his safety...

 

He went back to Miskatonic University the next day, after re-applying the sigils and double-checking the locks. He had a plan in mind, and he needed information - but for that, he’d have to talk to someone that would understand.

Dr. Henry Armitage was an old friend of Carter’s. Not only was he the head librarian at Miskatonic, he was known in occult circles as the man to go to for information. After a short, vague description of his situation, Armitage invited Carter into his office.

“So, Carter…” Armitage settled himself down into the chair behind his desk, “Could you explain in more detail, now that we’re away from prying ears?”

Carter nodded. “A few days ago, my apartment was broken into. Nothing was stolen, and I double-checked the locks before I left each morning, but the break-ins kept happening. I set up a camera to catch the intruder, and…Well, I need advice on what to do about it.”

“It?”

Silently, Carter handed over the developed picture. Armitage took one look at it and let out a long, impressed whistle. “Well...yes, that certainly is an _it_ , I’d say.” He stared down at Carter over his half-rimmed glasses. “You’re looking to get rid of it, yes?”

“Actually...” he took a deep breath, still unsure of the plan himself.

“I was actually hoping...you could help me trap it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be the longest I've waited in a fic to write any dialogue. There'll be plenty in the next chapter though, don't you worry! ;3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randolph Carter sets a trap, and catches something he wasn't planning for

As Carter left the house that morning, he half-expected to hear the trap he’d set go off as soon as he closed the door.

He lingered in the hallway for a few moments, holding his breath, waiting for some sound or flash of light to indicate the intruder's arrival. It was only moments, though it felt like hours...however, there was no sound. Carter sighed, and resigned himself to wandering Boston for the rest of the day.

Armitage had refused to actually help with any monster hunting shenanigans, but the old librarian had at least agreed to give Carter the knowledge and tools he’d need to get the job done safely. So he’d spent the rest of the night drawing spell circles and binding charms on his floor, copied directly from the old tome Armitage had lent him, his mind still buzzing with the warnings and instructions he was given.

“Whatever you catch in this trap of yours,” Armitage had warned him, “Make sure you’re careful with any conversation you strike up with it. I’m sure you’re well aware, but these types of things will do anything they can to manipulate you.”

Carter had nodded politely, though in the back of his mind he was skeptical that whatever was breaking into his apartment was capable of holding a conversation. _Could Shoggoths even understand English?_

It was difficult to stay away from his apartment that day. He had to fight himself quite a few times on the urge to go back and check on the trap. _Act natural,_ he’d remind himself, _If something’s watching, it’ll know it’s being tricked._

Finally, once the sun was sinking into the horizon, painting the buildings the same colors as the autumn trees around him, Carter decided it was as good a time as any to head home.

As he climbed the stairs to his apartment, he kept his ears pricked for any strange bumps or noises. But the way up was almost dead silent, as was the hallway at the top of the steps. The hallway was eerily dark, the late sunset outside casting long shadows from the window at the end of the hall.

Carter could feel his unease grow with each step. He knew this feeling, the feeling that came with encountering the unknown. Every bone in his body wanted to turn around and flee, find some hotel to stay the night in, and never return to this accursed apartment. He willed them forward - he needed to know what was going on.

Checking one final time to make sure none of his neighbors were around, he took a deep, shuddering breath...and opened the door.

There certainly was something waiting for him in his trap. A dark figure sat squarely in the middle of the circle, waiting for its captor. But Carter felt his blood run cold as he realized that this was no shambling horror.

The figure sitting cross-legged in the trapped circle was tall and lanky, with dark brown skin adorned with jewels that gleamed in the nearly-dead sunlight. It was the same pharoah-like figure that had greeted him atop Unknown Kadath, the same one that had nearly been his demise.

Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, was sitting in Randolph Carter's apartment.

This dawning realization left Carter frozen in his doorway, every part of him screaming for him to run. But just as he was about to turn and leave the apartment behind him, the eyes of the figure opened, glowing a soft gold in the growing darkness.

“Good evening, Randolph Carter.”

It had a soft and melodic voice, the same one that had sent him away on the Shantak-Bird months ago, but this time it carried the sharp aftertaste of unholy anger.

The apartment door closed behind him suddenly with a _snap_ , and Carter heard the lock turn on its own. _Now he was trapped, too_.

Taking a deep breath, he walked slowly towards the lamp near the window and flicked it on. When the Crawling Chaos didn’t attack, instead simply glaring at the human in contempt, Carter hurriedly closed the blinds. This was one thing he didn’t want people seeing from the street below. Once that was done, he turned to face his “guest” once again, clearing his throat.

“S-so…”

The Outer God remained silent, arms and legs crossed as it sat on the floor - though, now that the light was on, Carter could see a faint blue glow coming from the runes he’d drawn onto the floorboards. That meant it had worked, right? It was-

Nyarlathotep sighed. “Yes, Carter, you’ve trapped me. Despite how _primitive_ this spell of yours was...it worked, and I’m stuck here now.” It met the human’s eyes, its gaze piercing with malice. “The question is, though, what will you do with me now that I’m here?”

Carter winced. _All-powerful God, of course it can read thoughts…_ He cleared his throat again. “Well, uh...I’ll…” But he couldn’t find the words for a plan. He had expected to be facing off against some beast, something to be killed or banished and then he’d be done with it. But this was a much, _much_ different matter - Nyarlathotep was cunning and cruel, and no doubt had a thousand more backup plans than Carter did. Plus, judging from the demonstration with the door, it still had a portion of its powers.

The God grumbled, shifting so it was resting on its hip instead. “Of _course_ you didn't plan for this.” Its tone of voice was difficult to trace, but it sounded almost...disappointed?

“E..excuse me?”

He was fixed with a look that could cut through obsidian. “The way I see it,” Nyarlathotep mused, “You have barely a handful of options here, and even fewer that actually benefit you. Don't worry, though - I can think of _one_ thing that would help both of us.”

Carter’s eyes narrowed. Nyarlathotep was notorious for many things, pointless murder and senseless violence taking a few of the top spots, but it was most well-known for being the best _liar_ in the universe. Randolph Carter knew this well, and didn’t trust the daemon in the slightest...but he was running out of options.

He needed some way of getting rid of this abomination, and it seemed like Nyarlathotep wasn't keen on staying either.

“Alright,” Carter said, meeting the Crawling Chaos’ golden eyes, “what do you suggest?”

“Nothing drastic, I assure you - I think you should erase the sigils holding me here and let me go.”

That was _far_ too blatant. “And then what? You kill me? Send me off to Azathoth again?”

It laughed. “Oh, _please_ , what do you take me for? Even I can recognize when I'm beat. Besides, I have no intention of fighting you on your home terf, that's just poor sportsmanship!”

“Since when did you care about being fair?” Carter took a step forward, keeping his eyes fixed on the deity. “And that reminds me, why have you been breaking into my apartment? I caught a picture of you - funny, I suppose, I didn't think your kind could show up on film.”

Nyarlathotep tapped its chin, humming to itself. “Well, I could tell you...If you let me go, that is…” Its smile was wide and catlike, clearly enjoying whatever game it was playing.

Carter stepped forward again, cautiously, eyes sweeping the area around the trapped circle as he approached. An unnatural darkness filled the circle, stopping right at the edge of the innermost ring - _Just the effect of such an unnatural thing existing in the waking world, or something else entirely?_

Slowly, Carter kneeled down, taking a rag out of his pocket to erase the chalk with. The Outer God watched him as he slowly reached into the circle, his hand barely crossing over that unnatural shadow, and started erasing a section of the inner circle. The shadows, moving like tendrils, slithered out to meet the remaining chalk.

This, coupled with the feeling of something wrapping around his wrist, made Randolph Carter jerk his hand back violently.

As he pulled his hand out of the circle, he saw that a shadowy tentacle had slithered its way up his arm. It melted away when it hit the barrier, and the Crawling Chaos gave an annoyed hiss. “Smarter than you _look_ , I suppose…”

Carter stood up, shaking his hand to get rid of the lingering sensation. When he glanced back up, he saw that Nyarlathotep had stood as well, those strange shadows squirming like maggots at its feet. It was smiling, though the expression was tinged with annoyance.

 _That confirms it, at least,_ thought Carter. Nyarlathotep still had control over its powers, it was simply contained to the small chalk-drawn circle.

“Come now, Randolph, I only want to ask a few questions! I promise not to cause any _permanent_ brain damage…”

“Ask away, then, _without_ trying to grab me.”

“Not until either I'm out or you're in. Those are my terms, take it or leave it.”

Carter glared at the God. An idea had formed itself in his mind, and as stupid as it might be...there was no way in hell he was going to let the bastard out like _this_.

“No.”

Nyarlathotep's smile faltered. “Pardon?”

Carter went over to his desk and picked up the chalk he'd drawn the sigils with. Then, careful not to put his hand anywhere near the strange shadows, he kneeled down and re-drew the line he'd erased.

“So you're just going to keep me here like this? You humans truly are crueler than I imagined.”

Carter ignored it, earning an annoyed grumble from the Outer God. He finished closing the circle, then stood up again. Carefully stepping around the trap, making sure to not step on the lines, he made his way over to his bedroom door.

“You stay put,” he said, still ignoring his prisoner, “I'll be right back. I have some...important things to research.”

And with that, Randolph Carter stepped into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it with a _snap_.

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

It was at least an hour before Carter re-emerged from the room.

Nyarlathotep had tried to be intimidating while he was in there, making rustling sounds with the shadows pooled at its feet and muttering to itself, but after a few minutes of this it resigned itself to sitting on the floor in silence once again.

This meeting certainly hadn’t been planned very well, by either party - the Crawling Chaos knew that some sort of trap was bound to be set, but it’d expected it to be much less effective. This surprise had left it without a backup plan, and it hated nothing more than having only one way out of a situation.

And at this point, the only way it was getting out of here was if Carter _let_ it out.

Nyarlathotep grumbled. It usually enjoyed working with humans, they were reliable when given tasks and typically seemed eager to help. But having to rely on a human that refused to cooperate? That was a different matter. When left to their own devices, humans were very strange beings, usually forgoing all logic to do things that “felt right” - a trait that the Emissary usually found endearing, but it was a completely different story when the human in question simply didn't _want_ to do what it needed it to.

Another frustrating thing about this situation was the strange chest-tightening sensation it had been feeling - it had grown even stronger, becoming nearly unbearable in Carter's presence. The face-warming had returned as well, along with a new equally-uncomfortable fluttering in its mid-region. A strange curse, indeed, and Carter didn't even have simple courtesy to _tell_ it about it! Everyone knew that if you put a horrible curse on your enemies, you were supposed to _at least_ taunt them about-

Its train of thought was cut off by the sound of Carter's bedroom door opening.

Carter was carrying a large tome covered in arcane symbols, the Elder Sign displayed prominently on the front cover. Nyarlathotep had never seen it before, but from the energy coming off of it, it could tell that it held powerful magic. Carter was still reading from it, flicking through pages as he walked like a schoolboy cramming for an exam. He came to stand in front of the trapped God, muttering something to himself

“Where was _that_ hidden? I should have sensed it when I got here,” Nyarlathotep asked, voice calm but mind buzzing. There was something off about that book, and not in the way the God usually liked.

“Just something I picked up from the library,” Carter said dismissively, licking one finger and turning to a specific page (Nyarlathotep felt a strange tugging in its chest as it watched). Clearing his throat, he stretched one hand out palm-first, holding the book with the other.

Amusement filled the God. Was he going to try a spell? From what it had seen, Randolph Carter had never dabbled in magic before, save for protective runes and warding sigils. Spells were notoriously difficult to understand, especially for beginners. It laughed gently as Carter's hand began glowing a light purple.

“Are you going to try and curse me? Agai-”

“I suggest you focus on a humanoid form, specifically one that can blend in a little better than the one you're wearing right now.”

Before it could say anything in return, Nyarlathotep felt something begin to creep up its form. Looking down, it saw that a light - the same light that was coming from Carter’s outstretched hand - was wrapping around its legs, gradually making its way upwards to encase it.

Carter was muttering, reading the spell’s ancient words from the book in his hands. The runes on the floor were glowing the same purple color, pulsing in time with his quiet chanting as the spell grew. Nyarlathotep tried to say something, make some witty remark at the very least, but found its voice stolen away as the light wrapped around its chest, quickening its ascent.

It was frantic now, an emotion it hadn’t felt in a long while. Whatever this spell did, it certainly wouldn’t be good for the Elder God if it was allowed to finish.

As a desperate last resort, Nyarlathotep ripped through its current mortal form, bursting outwards to fill the circle with a writhing mass of squirming tentacles and three-lobed eyes and gnashing maws. A high-pitched whining filled the air around it, the screaming of the flutes that kept Azathoth asleep, piercing through the walls of reality to herald the Emissary in one of its more primal forms.

Carter staggered, the spell faltering as he moved to cover his ears against the unearthly sound, and to shield his eyes from having to view the primordial slime before him. Nyarlathotep grinned with its far too many mouths, positive that it had defeated the threat - until the Elder Sign on the cover of the book lit up like a beacon.

A silvery barrier appeared around Carter, fueled by whatever protections that book had on it, keeping him from the screeching flutes just enough to allow him to stand straight again. Keeping his eyes on the book, he resumed his chanting in a much stronger voice, hand outstretched and glowing once again.

Nyarlathotep reeled away from the sides of the circle, the light yet again beginning to encase it, much faster this time with Carter’s renewed ferocity. It screeched as it was enveloped, adding its own scream to the chorus of flutes in a horrible prayer to Azathoth.

The other Gods couldn’t allow this to happen! It was their Soul, their Emissary, and whatever this human was doing would be stopped any second, surely!

But the Outer Gods didn’t answer.

Whether they weren’t paying attention, or if they just simply didn’t care, Nyarlathotep did not know. All it knew was that the Universe watched, silently, as the Crawling Chaos was enclosed in the purple glow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to upload, yall! I got a new job recently, and they've been giving me full-time hours, so I haven't had a lot of time to work on fics. I hope you all enjoy chapter 3 tho!


End file.
